


Welcome to Lakeside Mr. Ainsel

by mikeymagee



Category: American Gods (TV), American Gods - Neil Gaiman
Genre: M/M, Male Slash
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-26
Updated: 2021-02-08
Packaged: 2021-02-25 20:54:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 10,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21971677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mikeymagee/pseuds/mikeymagee
Summary: Mike Ainsel is new to the town of Lakeside. And it only seems right that Chad Mulligan, chief of police show the new resident around town. It's the neighborly thing to do, right?
Relationships: Shadow Moon/Chad Mulligan, chaddow
Comments: 4
Kudos: 40





	1. Arrival

**Author's Note:**

> Ever since reading Neil Gaiman's book I've always loved Shadow/Mike Ainsel and Chad Mulligan's relationship. It's so sweet :)

One of the best things about being a cop in the sleepy town of Lakeside, was that the biggest problem was a parking space dispute. Chad Mulligan had been the chief of police at Lakeside for years now. And he loved the sleepy town. He loved the close atmosphere at Mabel’s diner. He loved how the ice-skating rink over on main street stayed open to allow teenage sweethearts a little more time together. It was something out of a Hallmark movie. 

  
That morning, there was a freeze warning, and Officer Mulligan was on his way to the station. It was routine really. Go to the station. Check some paperwork. Do the rounds. Just like the day before. Chad had heard horror stories about bloodied corpses. Rape victims who take their own lives. Cops who come home so out of sorts that they can’t even walk out of their rooms without shaking.

  
But Lakeside had never been like that. Hell, the most exciting to happen here was a stranger walking down the street. And…speak of the devil.   
There on the corner of the road limped a figure, broad and strong, making its way down the road, across the two bridge to main street. The guy (at least, Chad assumed it was a guy, it was still too snowy to tell) didn’t even have a proper winter coat draped around his frame. The leather jacket the stranger was sporting might work in New York or Las Vegas where fluorescent lights kept the streets warm, but not in a place like Lakeside. 

  
Hell, just last week, old Mrs. Maisel nearly froze to the ground cause it was so cold. Shit, the last thing Chad wanted was to open the newspaper the next day with a headline that a stranger froze to death on the way to town. No way, not on his watch.

  
Officer Mulligan slowly pulled his cruiser up to the poor stranger. Chad rolled down his window and smiled. “Morning,” he said. “Everything alright here?” He didn’t want to pry. After all, perhaps this guy was used to the cold weather and simply wanted to be on his way. Though, the way his broad shoulders were quaking made Chad think otherwise. 

  
“I-I-I,” the stranger stammered, “Tried to make my way into town but underestimated how far and how cold it was.”  
Of course. Chad was just glad he got to this stranger in time, otherwise it could’ve been a lot worse. Chad stopped the car and opened the backseat car door. “You get in there right this minute and get yourself warmed up.” 

  
The stranger obeyed with no objection. Chad Mulligan looked behind him. The stranger was (and Chad felt no guilt about thinking this) a beautiful man. Sure, his lips were pale and his skin was dark. There was something mysterious about his eyes, brown pools of exhaustion. As a cop, Chad Mulligan had to learn how to read people. He had to know when someone was lying, when someone was scared, or when someone was too stoned or drunk to know which way was up. But this stranger…there was something about his eyes. It was as if he had seen more than any person had a right to. 

  
“You alright back there?” Chad asked as he drove off to main street. If this guy was so determined to get to town that he’d brave this kind of weather, then the least Chad could do was make sure he got there safely. And Chad wasn’t exactly ready to say goodbye to his handsome stranger just yet.

  
“I’m Chad Mulligan. Chief of police here at Lakeside.” Chad shrugged and shook the cold from his ears. “You new in town? I don’t think I’ve seen you around.”  
The stranger laughed. “Yeah, I just moved in last night. I had a pretty rough bus ride comin’ in.” The stranger smiled, “Name’s Mike Ainsel.” 

  
That smile, Chad mused, could light up half the eastern seaboard. 

  
“You said you were headed into town, Mr. Ainsel?” Chad asked. 

  
“Mike,” he said, “And yeah. I’ve gotta get supplies. Cupboards are a little bare back at my place.” 

  
“Nice. Well, if that’s the case, I’ll be happy to drive you.” Chad smiled. He could make sure the guy didn’t die out here in the cold and he could make sure he wasn’t a nutcase murderer who wanted to rip the faces off Lakeside citizens and wear them as masks. And if it so happened that Chad could learn a little more about handsome Mr. Mike Ainsel, for instance if he were single, then why not? Everyone wins.

  
“Oh, I couldn’t ask you to do that,” Mike began. “You’re probably-“

  
“Oh come on. I can’t in good conscious allow you to walk in this weather. It’s too dangerous. I mean, you don’t even have proper boots. And have you even eaten anything yet?” Chad shook his head. “I’m gonna help out. That’s the end of it bud.” Chad spoke with his authoritative cop tone and then winced slightly. He hadn’t meant to come off angry.

  
Mike held his hands up in surrender, “Alright officer. You got me.” 

  
Good. Chad thought. And Chad Mulligan had no intention of letting him go anytime soon. 


	2. Hot Chocolate

As Shadow sat in the booth of Mabel’s, a little eatery that every Lakeside resident seemed to walk through at least once, he realized that Lakeside was a strange place. Like, Hallmark Special, strange. Each resident that walked inside Mabel’s place was kind, waved hello to Chad (and Shadow), ordered their breakfast and went on their merry way. 

  
And Shadow would’ve found it charming, if he hadn’t remembered that places like these always held a seedy underbelly. Much like the Virginian town of Vulcan, where people wore armbands and totted guns as if they were car keys. Places as nice as Lakeside weren’t generally too friendly to guys like Shadow (even if he had changed his name to something more cuddly like Mike Ainsel). Shadow was a Black man and, if his time in Cairo had taught him anything, Black blood was usually the price for towns such as Lakeside. 

  
But still…looking at Officer Mulligan’s—Chad’s—face, made Shadow’s insides melt. There was something genuine about his smile and comforting about his presence. He wasn’t like the pricks who ran Shadow’s old prison. No, Chad was too pure for that. 

  
“So Mike,” Chad began, “You’re gonna love Mabel’s. She makes the best hot chocolate in the whole state.” Chad looked Shadow up and down. “Let me guess. You’re the type that loves Marshmallows in his hot beverage, right?” 

  
Shadow’s face turned pink, just as it had when he first met Ostara. Pink chocolate on a frigid morning. “Y-yeah. I love marshmallows.” Sure, Shadow loved Marshmallows, and it certainly didn’t hurt that the handsome man he sat before deduced that. There was a warmth to Chad Mulligan. Shadow took a sip of his cocoa. If being Mike Ainsel meant that he could sit here with a handsome guy like Chad, then he’d take being Mike over being Shadow any day of the week. 

  
“How long are you staying in Lakeside?” Chad asked as he folded his menu.

  
Shadow shrugged, “Not sure. I kind of just blew into town and still trying to get my feet on the ground. But I do know I’ll be staying for a little while.”  
Chad’s face brightened at that, “Good. Lakeside loves newcomers. Hell, we haven’t gotten a new resident since Mr. Jenkins and that was four whole years ago.” Chad chuckled. “We were beginning to fear that people didn’t know where to locate us.”

  
Hot cocoa dribbled down Shadow’s chin as he tried to hold back a smile. “Well, maybe that’s a good thing. A little solitude way out here can give a man peace of mind.” 

  
Maybe that’s what Shadow needed more than anything. With Wednesday’s lies, and Mr. World out on the hunt for him, he needed a place where he could regroup. Or better yet, a place he could check into and never have to leave. Prison notwithstanding. And as he looked into Chad Mulligan’s eyes, he felt more and more at home. “Perhaps you could show me around Lakeside.”

  
Chad smiled even brighter. “That’s nothing I’d love more.” 


	3. Lumberjack

This first thing Chad wanted to do was make sure Mike had a good, sturdy winter coat. As nice as his leather jacket was it wouldn’t be able to keep Mike’s broad frame warm for long. Before Mike could raise a hand in protest, Chad had already parked the vehicle in front of Carter’s Coat Factory, a clothing store that sat right on the edge of Main street. This place had a whole selection of coats, sweaters, and hats to keep the driest chill at bay.

  
“Chad,” Mike began as they walked to the door, “You don’t have to do all this.” There was a sheepish grin on the man’s face. “I’m sure the chief of police has better things to do than babysit a yokel.”

  
Chad cocked an eyebrow, “You’re not a yokel. You’re a new citizen. And any Sheriff worth his badge knows it’s a police officer’s job to keep the citizens safe. And you having a winter coat is top priority when it comes to your safety.”

  
Of course, seeing Mr. Mike Ainsel’s broad body in a slew of different jackets and sweaters was a bonus too.

  
The two walked in and Carter’s was filled with customers desperate to fill their closets. There were teenagers trying on the latest fashions. Mothers corralling their kids to the cash registers. Men in their forties, trying on leather jackets to go with their new (ill-advised) motorcycles. It was always this busy in the winter time. Chad had thought people would get their fill of winter wear by now, but he guessed something would never change.

  
“Alright,” Chad said as he clasped Mike’s shoulder, “Let’s try over here.”

  
The two men edged their way between mothers, kids, teenagers, and anyone else looking for the best deal. The men’s coat section probably wasn’t going to win any fashion shows, but the selections were good. The material was strong and durable and Carter always had fair prices.

  
“How ‘bout this?” Chad said, handing Mike a crisp, warm jacket, checkered with red and black squares. 

  
Mike looked through the insides, his eyes darted from the jacket to Chad and back again. “Flannel?” He scowled.

  
Chad shrugged and tried to hide his grin. “It’s one of the only things they have in your size. Besides, flannel is cool.”

  
“Yeah, if you’re a lumberjack.” Mike countered.

  
Chad gasped. “You don’t think lumberjacks are cool? What is _wrong_ with you, man? With this, you’d be the coolest lumberjack in the world.”

  
Chad could completely picture Mike dressed in flannel, a warm cup of cocoa in his hands, relaxing by a fire. A gentle dusting of snow on his shoulders after a hard day’s trek through the snow. The very thought made Chad’s face grow hot.

  
Mike cocked an eyebrow (a habit Chad was quickly beginning to find endearing). “You do realize I’m Black, right? I don’t think there’s such a thing as a Black lumberjack.”

  
Chad merely shrugged, “Pretty sure there are. But if not, be a trend setter.” He fingered through more coats. “Sorry bud, but flannel seems to be all this place had. And the only other store is miles out of town.” Of course if Mike wanted, Chad would gladly take him to the edge of the earth.

  
Mike Ainsel slipped off his old leather jacket and tried on the flannel coat. His arms filled the sleeves as a sword filled a sheath. His biceps bulged against the cotton and his neck rubbed against the wool collar. The red and black of the jacket hugged his chest just right, and his dark skin made him look as inviting as a mahogany bed frame. He looked like something from a romance novel. Big. Strong. Wholesome and handsome. Shit. Had someone turned the heater up? Chad felt as though he were drowning in butter.

  
Mike held out his arms and spun. “How do I look?”

  
Officer Mulligan coughed. Police officers aren’t supposed to blush. Chad cleared his throat and looked into Mike’s cool brown eyes. _Keep it together officer Mulligan_. “Like the coolest lumberjack in the world.”

  
Mike grinned. “Well if that’s the case, I’ll take it.”


	4. Fanboy

Ever since dealing with Media (both old and New) Shadow had always tried to avoid television sets, camera recorders, and anything that had a screen on it. Chad had never tried to make Shadow feel strange about his odd idiosyncrasies. He didn’t have a television set, or a computer, his cell phone was an ancient flip phone he got at the corner supermarket. There was no way he’d risk using an iPhone, but he needed some way to communicate with the outside world. He wasn’t a barbarian. 

  
Regardless, Shadow felt like he was settling in at Lakeside. When the weather permitted (meaning, it wasn’t cold enough to freeze his balls off) Shadow took a walk around his new neghborhood. He waved to his neighbors, went grocery shopping, had a Pasty at Mabel’s. All around town he was known as “That nice Mike Ainsel who lives down the street.” There was a library he liked to frequent and an autobody shop he liked to poke around in. He was still looking for a new car and any recommendations would be great. Everybody knew everybody else here in Lakeside so maybe there was someone selling a clunker he could take off their hands. The town had small little get togethers every so often. In the summer there was a town wide picnic. In the spring, the kids would go Easter Egg hunting down by the Lake, at least, that’s what Chad had told him. 

  
“You really do need to get out more,” Chad had told him over breakfast last week. “Look, aside from your little walks, you pretty much don’t get out at all.” Chad had told Shadow this more times than either of them cared to recount. “I know you’re still settling in but you’ve gotta socialize a bit Mike.”

  
Or maybe he wasn't settling in as much as he had thought.. “I talk to you every day. And,” he outstretched his arm to show the inner workings of Mabel’s diner, “I come here to have breakfast. I wave to people on my walks. I go to the stores and smile. That’s not social enough?”

  
Chad rolled his eyes, “Not in a town like this no.” Chad pinched his scrabbled eggs with his fork and watched as the yellow center oozed onto the plate. He always did that when it came to his eggs. “You know, there are some nice women around town who’ve taken quite a liking to the,” Chad pitched his voice an octave, “’Mysterious Mr. Ainsel with the dark haunted eyes’.”

Shadow quirked an eyebrow, “I’m sorry. What?”

  
Chad took a bite of his eggs, “Oh, you haven’t heard? Everyone’s been talking about you. How you blew in from nowhere and don’t leave your apartment too often and how mysterious you are.” Chad laughed and sipped his coffee. “Can you blame them? You’re the most interesting thing that’s happened to this town since- “

  
“Can we just go back to the ‘Dark Broody Eyes’ for a second? Since when do I have ‘Dark Broody Eyes’?” 

  
“Dark Haunted Eyes.” Chad corrected, “And that’s not the point. People want to get to know you. I mean, I’ve got guys at the station asking me where you come from, why you moved here, what kind of beer you like.” Chad Mulligan sighed and took a sip of his coffee. “Look, they’re going to show an old sci fi movie down at the theater tonight. It’s a town tradition. I want you to come. It’ll be fun. It’ll let the other townsfolk have a chance to know you.”

  
“Well, I-“

  
“And I’m not taking no for an answer.

And that was how Shadow Moon, or rather, Mike Ainsel got roped into seeing a movie with the chief of police. Chad picked him up outside of his complex, a Flash Gordon shirt hugging his chest.

  
“You ready Mike?” Chad asked as Shadow walked up to the car, flannel jacket hanging loose upon his arms. 

  
“Do I have a choice?” Shadow asked. 

  
Chad only grinned. “Nope.”

* * *

Even though the theater was small, Shadow couldn’t help but feel unnerved. The last time he tried to watch a screen, I Love Lucy sprang to life and asked him if he wanted to see her tits. Since then he did whatever he could to avoid movies, TV shows, Youtube clips and whatever the fuck else Media had control over. Shadow still didn’t know how much control any one god had in this town. Any minute now Technical Boy could show up and take him out. Or Mr. World. Or some god of internet BDSM. Fuck.

  
“Mike?” Chad asked, “You doin’ okay?”

  
Shadow glanced to Chad. Right. Movie. He and Chad were watching a movie at the theater across town. He was in a small theater and they were going to watch…  
“Flash Gordon?” Shadow asked, “Of all the flicks to play?”

  
“Hey,” Chad covered his heart in surprise, “Flash Gordon is a hallmark of science fiction cinema. Without Flash Gordon we wouldn’t have Luke Skywalker or Eragon or-“

  
“Alright,” Shadow said. “I had no idea you were such a fanboy.” Shadow moved into an easy smile. At least Chad was here. He had that going for him. “One movie.” Shadow said, “And then you take me back to my place.”

  
Chad ran his index finger over his heart, and held his palm up like a boyscout. “Scout’s honor.”

  
Shadow cocked an eyebrow. “Didn’t know you were a scout.”

  
“I’m not. But I get to watch my favorite movie with a sexy lumberjack, so I figure I should try to be a good boy so the universe’ll keep doing me favors.”

  
Shadow chuckled. Well, if worse came to worse, and Media or the little shit TB decided to show up (and Shadow really hoped they wouldn’t) at least he’d have sexy police chief to keep him safe. And maybe the universe could be cool for one night. Maybe he could have a movie night with Chad, meet some of the Lakeside residents, and laugh over a cup of hot chocolate.   
The lights dimmed and everyone found their seats. Chad leaned in and whispered, “Trust me, you’re gonna love this.” 

  
Shadow shook his head, “I already do.”


	5. You Don't Have A What?

Was this courting? Was Chad Mulligan courting Mike Ainsel? No. It was just a police officer trying to help a guy get settled in a new town.

  
That was bullshit and Chad knew it. He was trying to get with Mike. And that strange thing was…Mike wasn’t exactly pulling away. Not that that meant anything, or that Chad could take it further of course. It just meant that maybe…

  
“Chad?” Mike asked.

  
Chad turned his face from the road for the briefest of seconds. The movie had ended, and Chad promised to take Mike home as soon as possible. Apparently, there was only so much socializing that Mr. Ainsel could do in one night. Mike had seemed a little jittery all throughout the showing. He jumped whenever the speakers screeched. He squirmed each time someone looked directly at the camera, almost as if he were expecting them to jump out and attack him. “Yeah Mike, what’s up?”

  
Mike shook his head, “Nothin’, I just wanted to make sure you were still with me.” Mike yawned and stretched. “I had a nice time. Thanks for making me go.”

  
“Yeah well, you need to get out more.”

  
Mike cocked his head back. “You wanna come back to my place? I think I’ve got some left over doughnuts and coffee.”  
Chad scoffed. “Oh, trying to lure me with a cop favorite? You bastard. You know no cop can resist stale doughnuts.”

* * *

  
  
Chad had never been in Mike’s apartment. Sure, he had driven up to Mike’s place to take him to breakfast but he never actually step foot inside. He never touched toe to carpet, or smelled the musk of unwashed fabric.

  
Mike led Chad to his door, unlocked it, and ushered him inside. “After you Officer Mulligan.”

  
Chad smiled and walked in…the place was bare. Too bare. Chad had been in homes where minimalism was the style, but this was ridiculous. Mike had one couch on the far side of the living room. A blanket and pillow were draped across the back like dead bodies. A kitchenette with a lone coffee pot squeezed into the corner and dark curtains drawn across the windows. There were no pictures of family or friends hanging on the walls. No little statues gathering dust on a shelf. No books.

  
“Wow Mike…” Chad said, “This is…uh…” How the hell does anyone live like this? There wasn’t even a computer or television set. “How long have you been living here again?” Chad asked, trying to keep the concern out of his voice.

  
“Long enough.” Mike said. He walked to the kitchenette and started the coffee pot. “I don’t really need to much to get by.”

  
“You know, when I said you make a great lumberjack I didn’t think you’d take it so seriously. Hell, even lumberjacks have laptops."

  
“I’m not that great with technology.” He plucked a doughnut from the box on the counter. “Come on, don’t you want any doughnuts?”

  
“Uh sure, but I’m more concerned about my friend’s overall living comfort.” Chad thumbed the couch. “You don’t sleep on that thing do you?”

  
Mike shrugged. “I don’t have a bed.”

  
Chad’s eyes nearly hit the ceiling. “You. Don’t. Have. A. What?”

  
“C’mon Chad, you’re not gonna make a big deal about that are you?”

  
“What? The fact that I’m standing in the room of a guy who not only doesn’t have a bed but also didn’t have the common sense not to walk in the snow during a freeze warning?”

  
Mike sighed. “You’re never gonna let that go are you?” The coffee finished and Mike grabbed the pot and took out a mug from the cabinet. “Look, I just got myself a car and I needed to save up. A car seemed more important than a bed. Especially when I’ve got a perfectly nice couch right over there.”

  
Unacceptable. A couch? There was no way in hell a guy as broad and tall as Mike could sleep well on that couch. There were coffins bigger than that thing. “Sleeping on a couch is nowhere near as comfortable as sleeping on a bed. No wonder you always look so worn out.” Not to mention, trying to bone on a couch was nearly impossible. Chad shook his head. “No, clear your schedule for the weekend because we’re getting you a bed.”

  
Mike smirked, “Oh? Is that right?” He placed his coffee cup on the counter and sauntered over. Close enough for Chad to smell the old oak of his cologne and see the gleam of his smile. “And why, pray tell, is the chief of police so insisted on getting me my own bed?”

  
Chad smirked hoping it his face turning as red as he felt. “Well…maybe I like the idea of you being able to sleep at night.”

  
“Oh,” Mike said with mock surprise, “Is that so?”

  
Chad took a step closer, their chins rubbing up against each other. Was this flirting? “Yeah, and if I’ve gotta take out my handcuff and force you to go bed shopping I will.” I smirked, two can play this flirting game. “I’m the chief of police. I can do that.”

  
“Ooohhh.” Mike whistled. “Sounds like a plan. Alright. But we’re taking my car.”

  
“Good.”

  
“And,” Mike said with a quick eyebrow quirk, “You’ve gotta help me break it in.”


	6. Hostage

Okay. So maybe Shadow Moon had been putting off getting a bed. Every time Chad came over to escort Shadow to the store, Shadow always had a fresh excuse.

  
“I can’t today,” he would say. “Let’s do it next week.” Or, “Sorry, I’ve got a few errands I’ve gotta run. Maybe tomorrow?”

  
To be honest, Shadow wasn’t even entirely sure why he was so against getting a bed. He had lived here in Lakeside long enough. People around town were starting to get use to him. Mabel even knew his order at the restaurant by heart. 

But every time he thought about staying here permanently, he was always reminded of the world outside his feeble imagination. The world Wednesday showed him. The world of bleeding hammers and shadowed wars and forgotten gods who’re too tired to sip coffee. There were more important things to worry about than whether or not Shadow was sleeping on the floor. 

  
But regardless of all that, getting a bed would make all of this seem like it were more real than it should have been. Shadow wasn’t a neighbor; he was a fugitive. Mike Ainsel wasn’t the new man who just moved in; he was a stranger who shouldn’t be here to begin with. A bed in his apartment would only highlight that fact.

  
A knock at the door. 

  
Shadow lifted himself up from his couch and dusted the lint from his pants. 

  
A knock again. Forceful. Strong. Impatient. 

  
“I’m coming,” Shadow said. “Hold on.” 

  
He opened the door, and out of nowhere he was tackled to the ground. 

  
“W-what the hell?” Shadow squirmed but the grip was too strong. Strong arms wrenched Shadows arms behind him. The cold click of handcuffs told him that resistance was a waste of everyone’s time. His prison guards taught him that. Shit. Shit. Shit. 

  
Was it Wednesday? Had he found his lost errand boy? Or maybe it was Mr. World and Black hats, out to finish him off once and for all. Shadow’s mind lurched from one explanation to another. Had he been followed? Had someone at the sheriff’s office found his real name? They were still after him after what happened at Cairo, right? How the hell could he have been so stupid? Opening the door without first checking to-

  
Shadow was hauled to his feet, bare and exposed, and pushed against the wall. There stood Chad Mulligan, a grin on his face.

  
“Hey Mike,” Chad said. 

  
“W-what?” Shadow asked. He clanked his wrists against the cuffs and felt his heart slow. “C-Chad? What the hell, man?” 

  
Chad simply looked around. “Where do you keep your shoes?” he asked. “And your coats?” 

  
Before Shadow could answer, Chad was already off towards the bedroom.

  
What. The. Fuck?

  
Faster than Shadow could blink, Chad came back with Shadow’s snow boots, thick woolen socks and the lumberjack coat Chad had picked out for him. 

  
“Alright Mike,” Chad said, “Lift up your feet so I can get you settled in. We can’t go bed shopping with you all barefoot.” 

  
Shadow did as he was told. Something about being in cuffs brought out his obedient side. Fuck, jail time really had done a number on him. Chad took the jacket and wrapped it around Shadow’s broad frame and zipped him up, all without removing the handcuffs. 

  
“We’re gonna go bed shopping with my hands all trusted up behind me?” Shadow asked in confusion.

  
“Yup.” Chad said. “I’m driving.” 

* * *

  
The one thing Shadow liked about Lakeside is that most people were too polite to gossip right in front of you. So when Chad walked Shadow into the furniture store like an inmate going to death row, most people pretended not to notice. 

  
“Is this really necessary?” Shadow asked.

  
“Yup. You kept dodging me, so I had to take drastic measures.” Chad looked to the side, “Oh, how about this one?” He tugged Shadow to the corner where the Queen sized beds were. “I took a look around your room while I was getting your things, this bed’ll fit in there perfectly.” 

  
“I hardly see how holding me down, kidnapping me and dressing me up like a lumberjack is a necessity to go bed shopping.”

  
“It’s perfectly necessary if the lumberjack I’m kidnapping kept making excuses as to why he didn’t want to get a bed.” 

  
Shadow would’ve smacked his own head if his hands weren’t currently cuffed behind his back.

  
“How do you know I didn’t order one online?” Shadow asked.

  
“Because you don’t own a computer.” Chad touched the springs of the bed. “Sit down. How does it feel?” 

  
Shadow did as he was told. It was nice. Shadow sunk deep into the springs. He had to admit it was nice. It had been so long since he slept in a bed. It had been even longer since he slept in a bed without someone by his side. “It’s nice.” Shadow said. 

  
Chad grinned. “Alright then.” Chad looked around for a store clerk. “You wait here while I get a little help.” 

  
Great. Shadow Moon could face down Gods, leprechauns, walking trees and pissed off TV screens, but he gets bested and kidnapped by a Flash Gordon fanboy. If Wednesday were here, he’d laugh himself so hard they’d hear him in Valhalla. 

  
Chad jogged back. “Okay. All set. They’re going to deliver it to your place today. You hungry? We can go to Mabel’s.” 

  
“Chad,” Shadow nearly bellowed, “D-did you just pay for my bed?” he asked. 

  
Chad rolled his eyes up to his forehead, as if he weren’t sure of the answer. “Oh! I guess I did.” He shrugged his shoulders. “C’mon. I’m starving.” 

  
Shadow struggled against his cuffs, but not matter how hard he tried he couldn’t break free. “Y-you can’t pay for my bed! I-“

  
“Well,” Chad interrupted, “ I didn’t want to, but you kind of forced my hand there buddy. I mean, you can’t exactly pay for a bed when your hands are cuffed behind your back like that.”

Shadow grinded his teeth, “Well, my hands wouldn’t’ve been cuffed if some asshole cop hadn’t tackled me to the ground and dragged my out of the house against my will.” 

  
Chad just shrugged again as if Shadow had just told him what he had for breakfast yesterday. “Yeah,” Chad agreed, “Asshole cops are the worse.” 


	7. Believe

“Okay,” Chad said as he finished the last of the bed boards. “I think you’re all set.” Chad grinned as he turned to Mike Ainsel, hands still cuffed behind his back. 

“You know,” Mike began, “I could’ve helped out if—”

“Oh don’t be silly,” Chad said, “You can’t exactly be expected to put a bed together when your hands are bound like that.” Chad shrugged the fatigue off his shoulders. Chad had helped the movers haul the bed to Mike’s bedroom, assembled it, aligned it to the perfect position near the window. Hell, if he had remembered to buy bedding, he would’ve made the bed up too. Oh well.  
“You’ve got blankets, right?” Chad asked. 

Mike still sat in the corner, his wrists chinking against the handcuff metal. “Yeah warden, I’ve got blankets.”

“Well, what about—”

“And pillows too. You don’t have to worry about that.” Mike leaned his shoulders against the walls. “Is this why you became a cop?” Mike asked, “To pick on poor defenseless lumberjacks? Force them to get nice comfy beds, and then torture them with your radiant smile?”

Chad tried not to gleam. He couldn’t tell if Mike was pissed off, or just trying to flirt. “Maybe. Or maybe there’s a particular lumberjack I want to torture. And seeing as this same lumberjack has a thing for sleeping on couches and walking around in freezing temperatures, I think torturing him with a little comfort might be what he needs.” 

Mike rolled his eyes, “You’re never gonna let that whole ‘Nearly freezing to death’ thing go, are you?”

“Naw,” Chad shook his head, “I don’t think so, no.” He stood on creaky knees, stretched his arms over his head and smiled. “Okay, let’s give this bad boy a test drive.” Chad helped Mike to his feet, herded him over to his new bed, and gently pushed him down. “What do you think?” 

Mike shrugged. “I dunno. It’s a bed.”

Chad looked Mike up and down, it was clear the guy wasn’t used to comfort. Mike’s shoulders were stiff, his back as rigid as dried plaster. Okay. This was going to take a little prodding.

“Here,” Chad said, “Lay back. I want to try something.” 

Mike gasped in mock shock. “Oh no, someone help. Police brutality.” 

Chad tried not to laugh. “Don’t worry. I’m not gonna brutalize you.” He lifted an eyebrow, “Well, not unless you’re into that kind of thing.” 

And Chad suspected Mike might be. But those were musing for another time. Right now, Chad’s wayward lumberjack needed a lesson in stress release. 

Mike leaned down onto the bed, his hands still cuffed behind him. Chad slowly removed Mike’s socks and slipped his pants from his waist. If there was one thing Chad had learned as a cop, it was that people wore their histories on their bodies. 

Mike’s feet were calloused and rough. He was a man who had walked too many miles. His legs were tight and sore, like a grocery bagged filled with too many items. Ready to burst at any second. Mike was a runner. That much was obvious. 

Chad moved up to the chest, ran his hands beneath flannel shirt and above healing flesh. There were bruises peppered all throughout Mike’s torso. Scars that refused to give way. A deep gnash kissed Mike’s ribs. Was this a stab wound? 

Mike chuckled. “H-hey,” he said, “You’re tickling me.” 

“Sorry,” Chad said. “Didn’t mean to. Just trying to get you to loosen up.” 

And there, upon Mike’s neck, Chad saw scars. Not just scars, but rope burns. They crisscrossed through flesh like a child’s chalk drawing. Had someone tried to hang Mike? 

Chad had always known Mike had a past. Hell, being a police officer meant dealing with people’s baggage. But Chad never imagined Mike’s past could be so…dark. 

Had he been abused? Escaped from some kind of cult? Stabbed in a dark alley and dragged through the streets? Shit. If that were the case, no wonder he spent most of his time alone. He didn’t say hello to the locals because he was too busy looking over his shoulder. He didn’t have a bed because he couldn’t trust its comfort to keep out the nightmares. 

And Chad just forced this guy into handcuffs against his will, and kept him there all day. Shit. 

Chad scrambled to his feet, reached into his pockets and pulled out the keys to the handcuffs faster than Mike could blink.

“C-chad?” Mike asked. “You alright?”

Chad uncuffed Mike’s wrists. “I-I’m sorry man, I didn’t think.” Chad was panting now. “I-I just thought you needed a bed and that it’s be kind of funny and-“

“Woah. Woah. Woah.” Mike brought his arms around him and gently massaged his wrists. “What’re you talking about?” Mike had that same easy grin on his lips. 

“Forcing you to do something you didn’t want to.” Chad shook his head. “Dude, I kept you bound like a criminal all day and—"

And who knew what kinds of memories that treatment might’ve brought up, or what kind of trauma Mike had to relive. “I didn’t think—”

“Chad,” Mike said, his face firm. “Listen to me man. There’s nothing to be sorry for.” Mike chuckled, “And yeah. It was a little funny. And c’mon, I know you wouldn’t do anything to actually hurt me. So we’re good.” 

Mike lay back down on his new bed, hands tucked behind his head like a pillow. “And weren’t you supposed to be teaching me how to relax? Because if so, you’re doing a pretty shit job.” Mike stretched to his full body length, his toes pointing to the ends of bed. He patted the side of the bed “C’mon back down.” 

Chad sighed. Okay. Mike seemed fine, but that didn’t mean much. Appearances weren’t everything. Chad lay next to Mike, the smell of Mabel’s hot pasties on both their breathes. “Listen, Mike. I need you to know this.” Chad turned his face to Mike’s, no hint of falsehood in his eyes. “You’re safe here. Okay? No one’s gonna hurt you here.” Believe me. “Lakeside’s a good place with good people.” Believe. “You can trust us. Believe me.”

And for the briefest of seconds, Mike looked as if he were going to scream, but clamped the impulse down into his throat. 

“Trust me,” Mike said, “Here at Lakeside is the safest I’ve felt in a long time.”


	8. Superhero

Shadow was not used to this. Sure, he had seen the most amazing things. Heard the most incredible stories. Seen a woman pluck the moon from the sky. Seen hammers bleed. Watched as Mr. Wednesday pulled a living tree from Shadow’s flesh.

But having Chad Mulligan curl up next to him in his new bed was definitely going on the list. Chad Mulligan was more than willing to run his hands up and down Shadow’s body until the snow melted. Hell, Shadow wasn’t complaining either. But the second Chad’s hands ran across the rope burns on Shadow’s neck, everything changed.

Chad went from horn dog to protector faster than a hammer could bleed. Instead of spending the night trusted up and sweaty, Shadow was now curled next to a fully clothed police officer who seemed intent on keeping whatever terrors Shadow might encounter at bay.

It was actually kind of sweet.

Chad Mulligan had his face buried in Shadow’s chest, his nose taking in whatever clung to Shadow’s body. Could Chad smell it? The blood from Czernobog’s hammer? Could he smell the embers of Froggie James’ anger? Could he feel the panic that rose in Shadow’s chest every time he gazed at the starry sky, the weight of a feral fury chained up within it. 

In his sleep, Chad inched closer. Fuck. He looked so sweet. Lamplight twisting in his hair. There was always a stern dependability to Chad. He could give orders. And when he did, Shadow would just smile and let him have his way. Chad was a man who wanted to protect everyone. A man who hadn’t quite learned that not everyone can be saved.

“Shit,” Shadow whispered, “I’ve got my own little superhero.”

Chad wanted to keep him safe. But could that be possible? Chad couldn’t stop the swing of Czernobog’s hammer, or the sneer of Mr. World. He couldn’t stop Technical Boy’s goons or keep the whispers of New Media from infecting everyone around him. This was bigger than a badge and search warrant. What the hell could handcuffs do against a buffalo who spouts fire from its mouth?

But…

Shadow looked down again and ran his fingers through Chad’s hair.

“It’s sweet of you to try, hero.” 


	9. Mercy

So maybe Chad deserved this. After all, holding poor Mike hostage all day to go bed shopping might have been a little far. But Mike certainly had a strange sense of humor.

“You ready for this, Super Chad?” Mike asked as he stood over a bound Chad Mulligan.

“Ready?” Chad said. Or that’s what he would’ve said of Mike hadn’t shoved a rag in his mouth.

Alright, so maybe Mike was a little pissed about what happened last week. But Chad didn’t really have any room to argue. Literally. Mike had tied Chad’s hands behind his back. With one heave, Mike lifted Chad on his shoulders and then deposited him on his forlorn couch. And for an added bit of fun, Mike draped one of his bed sheets around Chad’s shoulders in a sort of Superhero’s cape. 

Mike snorted. “You look like Superman on crack.” 

Chad tried move. Rock himself free, but the ropes were too tight. Where the hell did Mike learn to tie like this?

Mike launched himself on the couch and stretched his arm over Chad’s shoulder. The man’s fingers danced down Chad’s collar bone. “You know,” Mike began, “I’ve always wanted my own personal Superhero.”

Chad laughed, “Mmphen did I becommph…” Shit that gag was tight.

“Heh,” Mike smiled, “It’s not so fun when the shoes on the other foot, is it hero?” Mike flicked Chad’s ear. Faster than Chad could blink, Mike laced his fingers through the knots of the gag and unfurled the gag. It fell to the ground as Chad opened his mouth.

“God Mike!” Chad breathed in and out and tried to right himself. His body was lopsided and needed readjustment.

“Hey,” Mike began, “You’re the one who started this.”

“Yeah, but I never gagged you!”

“Well,” Mike looked over to Chad’s shoulders, “At least you got a cool cape! And, as I’m sure you’ve noticed, I’m not parading you around town like some kind of firefighter calendar.” Mike gently punched Chad in the shoulder. “I can’t show my face in town anymore without someone making handcuff noises.”

Chad laughed. Alright. That was a fair point.

“Sooo,” Chad leaned against the couch cushions. “I’m a superhero am I? So does that make you my archnemesis? The nefarious Lumber Jack?” Chad was starting to have fun with this. “H-have you captured me for some evil plan?”

“Heh. No. Nothing like that.” Mike reached for a book on the coffee table, “Not unless your kryptonite happens to be old Norse mythology.”

Chad raised his chin to the sky and wailed like a dying man. “You maniacal bastard. How could you do something so cruel! Anything but Norse mythology!” Chad struggled and kicked. “Killing me would be kinder Lumber Jack.”

Mike shrugged. “Well, what kind of archnemesis would I be if I were kind?” He opened the book, flipped a few pages.

“I never pegged you for the mythology type. Did you study that in college?”

Mike shook his head. “Naw, I’ve just gotten a strange interest in it. Norse mythology. Greek, Indian, Africa.” He shrugged and continued flipping pages. “You know,” he started. “Have you ever wondered what happens to a deity when people stop believing in them?”

“What?”

Mike gently closed the book and leaned into the couch. There was a sudden shift in Mike’s eyes, a slight twinge in his face. Was he afraid? “What happens when people stop believing? Do deities simply become dust, or do they stay? Desperately searching for ways to sustain themselves?”

And for a brief second…Chad saw something. A small flash, as quick as the tail of a cobra.

“What if Gods journeyed to this country the same way their people did?”

Men. Wedged together in a vessel, praying through a violent storm.

“What if they walked and bled and screamed and hid like the people they demanded worship from?”

Women raised their children to the sky, bathing them in starlight.

“What if they sacrificed something? Something greater than themselves?”

Trees. Ancient forests. Bent over, thrown away into an abyss. Sacrificed. And out of the nothing crawled something wooden, and stagnant, and ugly, and gnarled. Something Chad could only conceive of in his nightmares. Gold coins rained from the sky, clattering against the ground, and showering corpses in a golden glow. Horror and beauty mingled in a dance that, until now, could’ve only been seen by the devout. What was going on?

Chad wanted to scream, but he couldn’t speak. 

What the hell were these images.

“Chad?” Mike asked. “Are you okay?”

And then Chad came back, his eyes focused on Mike. Mike’s warm lips, and his tanned skin and his messy hair. “Y-yeah Mike. I’m fine.”

Mike grinned. “Oh no, it seems I’ve found Super Chad’s weakness.” Mike held the book up again. “Looks like I’ve got you at my mercy hero!”

“Yeah,” Chad said, “Looks like it.”

Mike placed his book back on the table. “But in all seriousness, are you alright? You’re not getting sick on me, are you?”

“Not on your life Mr. I-Can’t-Be-Bothered-To-Get-A-Proper-Coat-For-The-Midwestern-Winter.”

Mike rolled his eyes. “You’re never gonna let that go, are you?”

“Nope.”

And then Chad leaned his shoulders into Mike’s broad chest. “And beside, how could I get sick when I’ve got you to keep me warm?”


	10. Training

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I saw this picture on the American Gods Twitter and I naturally had to write a chapter for it :)

“You can’t be serious.” Shadow stood behind Chad’s back. The young officer was hunched down, his arms cradled behind him like a sling.

“C’mon Mike, I haven’t got all day.”

Granted, Shadow knew the people of Lakeside were a little…off, but when Chad asked him to help him with his training regiment, he had no idea he meant this.

“Uh…let me just go over this one more time,” Shadow said as he dragged his toe through the snow. “You want me to hop on your back, and then you’re supposed to carry me around the perimeter of my apartment building a few times.”

“Yup.” Chad popped the “P” on the last word. “And the more you spend flapping your gums the longer it’ll take, now let’s go.”

Shadow shook his head. “W-why, exactly, are we doing this?”

“Because I’ve gotta stay in shape. It’s my job to keep Lakeside safe, and I’ve gotta train.”

Shadow moved his fingertips to his temples, and for a brief second, he thought of Wednesday. “Are there no gyms in Lakeside? I-isn’t there a weight club you could join or—”

“Working out in a gym is nice, but the kind of stamina I need can only be attained through real life practice. If ever I need to carry one of my partners out of a tough spot, I’ll at least have real world experience. It could mean the difference between life and death.” Chad sounded as though he were working on a cure for pneumonia. “And you’re the only person here who’s willing to help,”

“Yeah,” Shadow said, “Because I’m the only person in the whole town crazy enough to agree to it.”

Chad rolled his eyes. “Oh come! Stop being so ridiculous.”

“You, Officer Mulligan, the leading officer of Lakeside, want to carry a full grown man on your back around his apartment building in the freezing cold, and I’m being ridiculous?”

Chad gave Shadow a pointed look. “Can we just do this? The sooner we get done, the sooner we can get to Mabel’s for a pastie.”

Shadow rolled his eyes, climbed onto Chad’s back, and wrapped his arms around his neck. “Fine.” Shadow squeezed, and with one mighty heave, he was lifted into the air. “No one better see this,” Shadow said.

“Relax.” Chad steadied himself and began to walk step by step. “No one’ll be out here this earlier. It’s jut you and me. And when we’re done, we’ll go over to Mabel’s and get a pastie.”

Perhaps it was the way the sun was rising over the crestfallen snow. Or maybe it was the gentle push and pull of Chad’s chest against Shadow’s arms. Or maybe it was that, for once, the world didn’t feel as though it were trying to shove Shadow down a path it refused to reveal to him.

Thing were simple here.

“You doin’ okay up there buddy?” Chad asked as he continued to job.

“I’m doing fine,” Shadow said, “You’re the guy who’s gotta watch out for the snow and black ice and shit. If you fall while carrying me I’m gonna be pissed.”

There was nothing else but Chad and him. Shadow and Chad. And Shadow might’ve even smiled despite himself.

“Smile!”

A flash of light nearly blinded Shadow and Chad grinded to a halt. The two looked to the left and there stood Marguerite Oleson. The greatest news reporter of the Lakeside Gazette, and Shadow’s current landlady. She held her wide lens camera as if it were rifle. And Shadow knew she was pretty handle with a firearm too.

“This’ll be a nice little piece for our newspaper.” She held her hands up to the sky, “New Lakeside resident helps Officer with training regimen: A Bromance For The Ages.” She grinned and tucked her camera back into her coat. “I’ll be sure to get you both a copy.” And without another word, she walked back towards the building, her heels crunching through the snow.

“Oookaayyy,” Chad said as he kneeled down and placed Shadow on the snow. “Maybe one person was watching.”

“Oh,” Shadow said, “Now you want to be embarrassed?”

“Well,” Chad shrugged the snow from his shoulders, “Maybe no one will see it.”

The next morning came sooner than Shadow would have wanted.

And so did the morning paper.

And it’s front page.

“Oh boy…I’m never gonna hear the end of this, am I?” 


	11. Rest

Shadow came to Mabel’s for his morning pasty. It had become a kind of morning tradition for him and Chad to have breakfast together. Chad, being the very model of midwestern grace, was never one to keep someone waiting. So when thirty minutes went by and Chad had yet to arrive, Shadow became a little concerned.

“No Chad?” Mabel asked as she refilled his hot chocolate.

Shadow shook his head, “Is he sick? Maybe I should—”

“Actually,” Mabel looked towards the window, “Whenever he misses one of my pasties, it usually means he’s in his office working on some kind of case.”

“Case?” Shadow asked. Lakeside wasn’t exactly a place where you’d need a SWAT team to deal with issues. Hell, Shadow had been here for a while and the most dangerous thing he had seen was a parking violation.

Mable nodded her head, “A kid has gone missing, and the entire police department’s working overtime trying to find her.”

Shit. “That’s terrible,” Shadow said.

“How ‘bout you go keep ol’ Chad company? I’m sure he could use a break.” Mabel patted Shadow’s arm and handed him a bag. “And be sure to give him these pasties, alright?”

Shadow smiled, took the bad and took off towards the precinct.

This wasn’t working. Chad had been at this case all night. He couldn’t find any leads. He couldn’t get any clues, and even worse, the girl’s parents kept breathing down his neck looking for answers. Yeah, he wanted to bring their daughter back as much as them, but there was only so much he could do.

“C’mon Mulligan, focus!” It was all he could do to keep from bashing his head on his desk. He hated when things got like this. He’d forget to sleep. Forget to eat. He’d walk into his office on Tuesday and the next thing he’d know it’d be Friday.

And then the hallucinations would start. Sometimes he’d see pink elephants dancing through the halls. Other times he’d see otters tap dancing on his desk. But this time he…smelled pasties. Warm. Delicious. Marinated in gravy. Buttery.

“Chad?”

Chad turned to see Mike Ainsel decked out in his warm lumberjack coat, holding a bag full of fresh, warm pasties.

“Shit,” Chad murmured, “Now I know I’m hallucinating.”

“Chad?” Mike walked over, placed the bag down and cupped Chad’s face. “What the hell man?”

“Hmmm,” Chad sniffed the air, “Heh, you even smell like Mike.” He licked his lips and leaned into Mike’s chest. “This is the best hallucination ever.”

“Alright, that’s it.”

And somehow, Chad felt his body lift into the air. The room was spinning. Was he flying? Did cops fly? Was that a new program they had invented? Wouldn’t that be swell. To fly.

“You’re gonna get some rest.” 

There were sheets wrapped around Chad’s arms, and a warm body pressed against his chest. Was this heaven? Chad was in a bed. A very familiar bed. There were sheets that weaved through his legs. A pillow that felt like it was made from cloud skin. And…a warm dark chest, sprouting chest hair as deep as a forest.

“Mike?” Chad asked.

Mike Ainsel turned his furry face and grinned. “Hey hero, you feeling better?”

“W-what am I doing here?” Chad shook his head, “Wait, where exactly is here?”

Mike propped himself on his elbow. “This,” he said stretching out his arms, “Is the bed you bought me. We’re in my apartment.”

“And what, exactly, are we doing in your apartment? I’m supposed to be at work.”

“No,” Mike said, “You’re supposed to be resting.” Mike fixed a stern scowl on his face. “Look hero, I know you want to try and save the world, but you’ve got limits. When you didn’t come to Mabel’s for breakfast, I came to your office.”

Good God Mike was beautiful. Chad had never really seen him outside of his thick coats, and woolen hats. But there was so much beauty to be seen in Mike’s long arms, and furry legs.

“Y-you brought me all the way to your apartment?” Chad asked.

“Yeah. And I got you out of that uniform and into some of my PJ’s. I wanted you to rest.”

“And,” Chad looked down, “You got into bed with me?”

Mike grinned. “The heater isn’t working in my apartment at the moment and I didn’t want you to freeze to death. And I didn’t want you to be alone when you woke up.” Mike snuggled closer to Chad’s chest. “Get comfortable Chad, because you’re not leaving this bed.”

As nice as if sounded to snuggle with Mike all day, he couldn’t. He had a job to do. A kid to find. A family to reunite. If he didn’t do it, who would? “I-I can’t Mike, I’ve—”

“That wasn’t a suggestion pal.” Mike laid his chin against Chad’s chest. “As strong as you are, I can tell I’m stronger. Not to mention you’re wiped out from all the work you’ve been doing. No offense Chad, but you don’t even have enough strength to take out the trash, let alone get me off your chest.”

True. Mike had a point.

“Look Chad,” Mike continued, “You’ve gotta let people give you a hand every now and then. I know you love to help others but you’ve gotta take a break. The whole world can’t be on your shoulders a hundred percent of the time.”

“But—”

“Could you do it for me at least?” Mike asked, his eyes pleading. “Seeing as you made me your work out partner, I’d say you owe me a favor.”

Ouch. “Hey,” Chad began, “That’s not fair.”

“Well,” Mike leaned in and kissed Chad’s forehead. “What kind of supervillain would I be if I played fair?”


	12. All American

“Okay,” Shadow said. Superhero Chad was safely tucked in his bed, the blinds were shut tight, and no heat could escape Shadow’s little apartment. Which meant it was the perfect time…to make breakfast.

Shadow rummaged through his cabinets and took out bowls and boxes and whatever else he could get his hands on. Mabel had said that Chad forgot to eat when he got too worked up on a case, and Odin (or Ostara, or Anasi, or whoever the fuck else) only knew how long Chad had had an actual meal.

So why not give Lakeside’s finest something to fill his stomach?

Shadow opened a box of pancake mix, and the powder flew into his face and caked his fingers. “Oh. That’s right. I have no idea how to cook.”

Shadow had never really been a cook. When his mother was still around, her work kept her too busy to teach him. And Laura wasn’t exactly handy with a spatula, so the two of them would usually order in. It was amazing how, even when times were lean, they could still scrape enough together to get a meal. But now, when Shadow wanted to impress to worn out superhero in his bed with a meal, all he could manage was getting pancake mix on his fingers.

“Okay Shadow,” he said, “You can do this. Just read the instructions. You love reading. It’s one of the few things you’re good at.”

Shadow turned the griddle on, poured the pancake mix in a bowl with milk, eggs, and something he assumed was cream. Did pancakes get cream? He shrugged. “Oh well, what’s the worst that could happen?”

But pancakes wouldn’t be enough right? Not for a big guy like Chad. Hell, Shadow had seen him put away three pasties in one sitting. And that was back before he was starving himself.

“I’ve got bacon, right?”

He did, stuck way in the back of the fridge behind the celery and TV dinners. Shadow took it out, opened the package and threw it in a frying pan. He had seen people frying bacon in a pan before, how hard could it—

A splatter of bacon great popped from the pan and splashed on his cheek. “Shit!” Shadow screamed. He rubbed his cheek. Ran cold water on his face. Dabbed a towel on his chin and tried not put his hand through a wall.

“Okay,” he said. “Bacon grease burns. Good to know. Live and learn.” Shadow sniffed the air. “What…the—”

The pancakes.

“Shit!” Shadow turned to the griddle to see his pancakes blacker than Technical Boy’s sense of humor. “Damn it.” He removed the pancakes and cut into one. Its insides ran off the plate like blood. “How the hell is it both burnt and raw?”

Will wonders never cease?

“Mike? You alright in there?”

Shadow heard movement coming from his bedroom. Was Chad up again? “Yeah Chad,” Shadow called out. “I’m peachy and don’t you dare think about leaving that bed!”

“You sure?” Chad called back, “You sound like you’ve been hurt. I-I could—”

“I’m good.” Shadow said before Chad could even think of finishing his words. “Don’t get up. I’ll be back in a sec.”

Okay. Pancakes were a no go. The bacon was alright. A little crisper than the ones seen on television but whatever. They’ll do. Shadow looked around. There had to be something else. Milk? Orange Juice? He rummaged through the cabinets. There was cereal. Lots and lots of cereal, but who the hell wants to eat cold cereal in the middle of winter?

“Eggs!” Shadow said. And he had some tucked away. Bacon and eggs. What’s more American than that? Well…pancakes, but that ship sailed. Unless Chad liked his pancakes the color iron and the consistency of mudslides.

“Mike,” Chad called out again, “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Totally buddy!” Shadow called back. He cracked eggs, careful to remove the eggshells that fell into the bowl before stirring. “Scrambled eggs and bacon. Perfect thing for an over worked tough guy like Chad.”

Shadow scrambled eggs and placed them on the one clean plate he had. He really had to do some dishes eventually. He topped it with bacon (the few pieces that were amber colored), poured a tall glass of Orange Juice and grinned. “All American breakfast for an All-American guy!”

Crap, he was beginning to sound like one of those sitcoms from the 1950’s. All he needed was a pink apron and a silly theme song. Shadow carried a tray to his room, opened the door, and saw the most beautiful thing in the world.

Chad Mulligan, bare chested and resting in Shadow’s bed. Golden skin, cheesy haircut, and a smile that could light an entire town. “Y-you made me breakfast?”

Shadow shrugged, trying to seem as uninterested as possible. “Mabel told me that sometimes you forget to eat when you work. I wanted to make sure you had something in your stomach.”

Shadow walked to the bedside and placed the tray on Chad’s lap.

“Mike, I-I can’t eat this.”

Shadow laughed. “C’mon, I’m not that bad of a cook. I swear!”

“N-no,” Chad nearly leapt from the bed, “I’m sure i-it’s great! I mean, you’re great at everything a-a-and…” he stammered and looked away. “It’s just, I-I mean…. you bring me into your home, cook me dinner. I-I can’t—”

“Oh,” Shadow said in mock surprise. “Mr. I’m-Gonna-Kidnap-My-Friend-Buy-Him-A-Bed-And-Put-It-Together-For-Him can’t take a little breakfast?”

Chad’s faced turned deepest shade of pink he had ever seen. And just then Shadow decided that it was his new life mission to make Chad Mulligan blush like that all the time. “I need to make sure you’re recovering well, and I can’t do that unless I know you’re stomachs full.” Shadow cut off a piece of bacon with a fork and held it to Chad’s mouth. “Don’t make me feed you big guy.”

Reluctantly, Chad opened his mouth. Chewed. Swallowed. And then, like magic, his face turned pink.

“How is it?” Shadow asked.

Chad smiled. “It’s the best meal I’ve ever had.”


End file.
